


Through Time and Space

by alyjude_sideburns



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode Related, First Time, M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-11 08:05:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyjude_sideburns/pseuds/alyjude_sideburns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things are just meant to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Eamonn and Eoin

**Author's Note:**

> The first part of this story takes place in ancient Ireland and represents a past life of Jim Ellison, Blair Sandburg, Simon Banks, Megan Connor and Alex Barnes. At the conclusion of the first part, we are once again in the present and approximately one month after their return from Sierra Verde.
> 
> In writing the part of the story taking place in Ireland, I used my own family history and family names. Jim Ellison's Irish name belonged to a great-grandfather and I was named after my Grandmother's maiden name of Ellison; the E was simply changed to an "A" to create an existing girl's name. The coincidence was too much and this story was born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I use a few Celtic words and phrases but have provided a list with spelling, pronunciation and, when applicable, meaning, including character names. Please find them in the notes at the end of this chapter.

 

_Ancient Ireland in the time of the Druids_

Dawn had come, the sky was clear, the air crisp. The lone rider surveyed the meadow below. A beautiful mist swirled low to the ground, enveloping the grassland in its beauty.

To anyone else, the movement of the mist would seem normal, but to Eamonn's eye, the surge and eddy of the low clouds had a distinct pattern. These were not the mists of nature, but the creation of man.

Eamonn sent his sight through the moist veil and could now distinguish a caravan traveling cautiously within its folds.

A frown marred the rider's handsome features. This caravan moved west but in a strange formation. No single file here, but rather they traveled in two circular patterns, creating what could only be called a protective ring. The men in the outer circle were warriors and dressed much like Eamonn himself; leather breeches, shirt and vest and their weaponry.  The riders of the inner circle were dressed in white robes.

Druids!

Eamonn concentrated his vision on the object of the protectiona : boy.

Druids protecting a boy? Who was this child?

Focusing once again on the boy, Eamonn noted he too wore the leather breeches, but no shirt, only a vest. Eamonn could see the clan tattoo encircling the boy's right wrist and on each bicep, a circlet of two thin silver bands, a silver animal design trapped within the two bands. The animal represented in the right circlet was a wolf but the animal design on the left circlet was unclear; it appeared to be a large cat of some kind.

Eamonn could not see the boy's face for he wore his hair longer than was usual and the curls whipping about successfully hid the boy's features.

As Eamonn continued to watch, he felt a strange pressure building in his chest, a pull, a need to join the caravan, to join the guardians of this boy. As he was about to urge his mount down the hill, something caught his eye.

Movement. To the north of the caravan.

Warriors. Heavily armed. Roman. The same mists now protecting the caravan also protected the warriors.

The pressure Eamonn had experienced before now quadrupled; he had to protect.

Kicking in his heels, he galloped down the slope.

A war cry pierced the early morning air and the warriors ran swiftly toward the circle and the boy.

The men of the outer circle heard the war cry and could now see the advancing menace. They immediately turned their horses to meet the warriors head on. One guardian, larger than the others, moved his horse up to the boy, grabbed his reins and forged ahead, removing the boy from the battle about to surround them.

Roman warriors met guardians, the sound of metal striking metal.

Eamonn was almost upon the battle when he noticed two warriors break off from the main horde and charge after the boy.

Eamonn quickly changed direction and raced after them. As he closed the gap he reached down, unsheathed his dirk from its legging strap and with incredible speed and miraculous accuracy, he hurled it toward the closest rider. The dirk found its mark and the Roman went down.

The other warrior glanced back, saw his fallen comrade, saw Eamonn, and kicked his horse to greater speed. Eamonn did the same.

The guard who had taken the boy from the heat of the battle checked back and realized that the Roman would soon catch them, the boy's horse being no match for the Roman's steed. He returned the reins to his charge, yelled a command and turned to face the warrior.

NO! Eamonn's mind screamed. It was a trap. Eamonn could see what others could not and he now spied another man. On horseback, several yards in front of the boy. He waited. He did not need to move; the boy was coming to him. The man sat tall in the saddle, his bearing spoke of wealth and power. He wore a black hooded cloak and as Eamonn rode frantically to intercept the boy he saw the hood fall back and reveal long, straight, white-blonde hair.

Eamonn had drawn up to the large guardian who was engaged in mortal combat with the other Roman. There was nothing he could do here, his job was the boy. He had to reach the boy before the man in black.

He was closing the distance, praying he would succeed, when the boy glanced back, saw Eamonn and pulled up on the reins!

Amazingly, the boy turned his horse and galloped straight back toward Eamonn!

A bow was discharged, the arrow burying itself in the boy's horse. Rider and animal went down, the boy tucking, curling and rolling up to his feet. Eamonn came abreast, the boy reached up one arm, Eamonn connected and swung the boy back and up onto his horse.

The man in black ahead, the raging battle behind. Eamonn chose the battle. He reined in his horse, turned and rode back.

It was a good decision. The battle was almost over and the Romans were being soundly defeated; the few still remaining on horseback were retreating. The guardian who had turned to fight now stood over the body, his sword buried to the hilt in the chest of the Roman.

Eamonn glanced back. The man in black remained in place, heedless of the losing battle, watching Eamonn and the boy.

Eamonn's eyes locked onto the other man's and he felt a surge of heat race through his body. Eamonn almost lost his seat, the heat and shock was so intense. Only the firm hold of the boy kept him steady.

The man in black broke the gaze first and disappeared into the forest.

As Eamonn pulled up to the guardians, he noted five Romans dead on the ground but not one guardian.

Druids and guardians, swords still drawn, moved forward as Eamonn lowered the boy to the ground. The boy did not run to his people, instead he took a protective stance in front of his new guardian.

The large guard had caught up with them and now stepped forward. The boy stopped his movement with a raised hand and turned to face Eamonn. And Eamonn found himself facing not a boy, but a young man of maybe 17 or 18 summers. The face that stared up at him was beautiful. Full lips, broad forehead, strong, high cheekbones, eyes a slightly darker blue than Eamonn's, but with a depth and maturity beyond his years.

"I am Eoin. We are grateful for your intervention."

Eoin's voice was beautiful as well, low, melodic, it drew the older man from his horse to stand at his side.

"I am Eamonn. Of Inishowen."

"You have many questions, Eamonn. Perhaps you travel in our direction? We would welcome your company and I would be happy to satisfy your curiosity."

Eamonn was in fact, traveling to Tara. In the opposite direction from the one the caravan was going. But looking into those eyes, he could only nod.

The large guardian stepped forward now, clearly angry and Eamonn was astounded to find the guardian was a woman.

"Eoin, you know nothing of this man, we dare not--"

Once again the young man staved off any action or words with his raised hand.

"What I know, Morrigan, is he entered a battle that was not his, risked his life for me and he sees that which you and I cannot. I trust him."

Eamonn was staggered. This boy knew. He knew of his curse.

"Eamonn, we would be honored if you would travel with us?"

Eamonn could not refuse. He nodded his agreement. The guardian called Morrigan turned to remount and one tall white-robed man came forward. This druid was unlike any Eamonn had ever seen. He was tall and his skin was a dark shade never seen by Eamonn.

"I am Naoise. I thank you for saving Eoin and I welcome your presence."

Naoise addressed the others.

"We must move on, we have much ground to cover before nightfall."

Eoin turned to his new protector, eyebrow raised in question. Eamonn did not hesitate. He swung up on his horse and extended his hand down to Eoin, who grabbed his wrist and once again swung up behind the older man.

The caravan once again moved forward, creating the protective circles, this time around Eamonn. As he urged his horse ahead, he could discern mutterings coming from his "passenger". He glanced back and saw Eoin's hands creating complicated designs in the air with his fingers as a pale light flowed from his fingertips, tracing the beautiful designs. Eamonn was not a stranger to the ways of druid magic and he knew he was witnessing the Feth Fiada, or the calling of the cloak of invisibility. And Eoin was apparently very adept. Slowly the beautiful mists returned to once again hide the travelers.

The caravan traveled through the rest of the day in silence, conversation being impossible as their path was uphill; the road rough and dangerous.

Throughout their journey, Eamonn found his mind taken up with all that he had seen and he found himself unable to accept that the young man behind him could be a druid. And yet, the magic. Only the most adept could call forth the Feth Fiada, and how had Eoin known of his curse?

Eoin wore not the robes of the druids nor the pendants that proclaimed their status. His only adornment; the circlets and two round metal rings in his left ear. But the power he wielded was very real.

At one point the path became rocky and uneven and Eoin's right arm came around Eamonn's waist to steady himself. Eamonn felt a warmth travel through his body. A warmth that stunned him. The feeling was stronger even than that which he had experienced when his eyes locked with the man in black. It was not a feeling he disliked, but he felt strangely uncomfortable.

Eoin was a man, Eamonn was a man and older by ten. He pushed the warmth away, denying its very existence.

At dusk the order was given to halt and make camp.

Eamonn left Eoin with Naoise and traveled several yards upwind and made his camp. He was just sitting down to eat when he heard Eoin. He already knew the sound of him, the scent of him. Moments later, the young man appeared through the brush.

Eamonn stood and started to explain.

"Please understand--"

"I do. You must camp thus to protect us. May I join you? I promised to answer your many questions."

"Please, sit by the fire."

The two men sat, side by side, letting the warmth of the fire and their comfortable silence relax them after the days events.

Finally Eamonn could contain himself no longer.

"I have so many questions, I do not know where to begin."

"Let me tell you what I can and if you have other thoughts, share them. Fair?"

Eamonn smiled, Eoin was a born talker, much like his own brother.

"We travel from Erin to Calbair Con Ri for the summer solstice. The druids will be initiating a new "Faith".

"You?"

"So they believe."

"But they are wrong? You are not a Faith?"

"I am Faith, but my destiny lies elsewhere. This I have seen. I will not be initiated. The men who attacked were Romans, you gathered as much, I am sure. They were led by Laetes, who has dabbled in the black arts and believes that if he can possess me, he can possess great power. He is wrong. His time is not now."

"How did you know of my curse? Did you see me in a cenad?"

"Curse? You believe your gift to be a curse?"

"It is. I have lost my family, my clan. They were afraid of me, certain that I was possessed. I travel alone now.  There is much pain and confusion, sometimes I know not what is real and what is evil. Yes, I believe I am cursed. And you have not answered me, how did you know?"

"Yes, I saw you. In a cenad. I saw greatness for you. Your gift can unite our land and ward off the new invaders. You can make history."

Eamonn laughed. The laugh was harsh.

"Eoin, I am a freak, I can unite nothing, make nothing. And you? If you are not destined for Calbair Con Ri, what is your destiny?"

"Not what. Who. You are my destiny. I can help you with your gift. We can make a difference for our land, our home. Do you know what your name means? "Eamonn." It means Blessed Protection. That is you."

Eamonn lurched to his feet, stepping back, arms raised as if to ward off Eoin's words. "I am no one's destiny, certainly not yours. You are Faith, I am nothing."

Eoin looked up at the man, their eyes locking. "Our destinies are linked. Deny that if you must, but it will not change the truth. We are bound, you and I. If not in this life, than in another, or another, or another."

"And if I refuse this destiny? What of you?"

Eoin was silent, his head going back to the fire. But finally he answered, his voice low, almost a whisper.  "There are always other paths, Eamonn."

This seemed to relax the older man. He took his place back at the fire. "Eoin, I can not deny a connection between us, I felt it the moment I laid eyes on you. But can I accept such a destiny for myself? No. The Gods would laugh."

Eoin picked up a stick and began to poke the fire.  "Eamonn, have you ever been in love?"

Eamonn was not surprised at the abrupt change of topic. Eoin was smart and clever and a piece of misdirection would serve to calm Eamonn.  Yes, once. But she was matched to another."

"I'm sorry."

"Do not be. It was for the best."

For awhile both were silent, watching the flames, each deep in the myriad of their own thoughts.

"Eamonn, you let your fears decide your fate."

"As do most men, Eoin."

"No, most men use their fears to forge their fate. Fear can be your greatest asset."

Eamonn felt the intense gaze of Eoin and a heat began in his chest and traveled to his groin. Suddenly he had to touch Eoin.

An urge as old as creation pulled him forward until his face was inches from Eoin's. Eoin's hands came up, one on each side of Eamonn's face and he brought his head down, their lips just touching. Eamonn's senses exploded in heat, his arms pulling the young man up, both men standing, bodies melded together. Taste, smell, touch all warred for dominance. Eamonn's hands began to travel down the strong back coming to rest on the curve of Eoin's ass. He pulled the body in deeper and felt a hardness against his thigh.

Hardness? A man. He'd been kissing a man! NO! Eamonn jerked back as if struck. He pushed Eoin away, disgust and horror waging a battle across his features.  "Stand away!" he hissed.

"Eamonn?"

"Stand away, I say!"

Eoin reached out a tentative hand, worry etched on his face. Eamonn stumbled back and away.

"What is it? What is wrong?"

"What are you? Eamonn whispered.

"I am a man, just as you.  Nothing more."

"And what else? Did you use a druid spell on me? To force me to want your body, to do your bidding?"

Eoin stepped closer.  "Eamonn, this is not you speaking, it is your fear. Our outside shell counts for little, it is the mind, the deeds, the soul that counts."

"NO! It is wrong. ALL teachings tell us this."

"So you would ignore all that you are, all that you feel?  You would deny us?"

"There is no us, and yes, I deny _you_ if this is what you represent."

"Than you deny yourself." Eoin gazed at Eamonn, but saw nothing of the man from his visions, nothing of the man he'd spent the day with. This man was so deeply withdrawn that Eoin could not reach him. He turned and walked away. But his heart and soul remained.

*****

"Eoin?" Naoise spoke softly in case his charge was sleeping.

"Yes."

"Are you all right?"

"Yes."

"I have known you, cared for you since you were orphaned at six. I know when you lie."

Naoise lowered himself to the ground behind Eoin's head, crossed his legs, reached under the young man and lifted him toward his legs so that his head now rested in his lap. Eoin sighed as long, dark fingers began to massage his temple.

"Naoise, he denied who he is."

"You will help him see."

"No. He denied us. _Me_."

The big man's hands stopped.

"Eoin--"

"There is nothing I can do. His fears are greater than his truths."

"Your vision, the second one? It will not come to pass?"

"You. I. No one can stop it."

"You could be wrong."

"I have been wrong before?"

"No."  Naoise bent at the waist and wrapped his arms around the young man who was as a son to him. He rested his cheek on Eoin's forehead. "When Eoin? When?"

"There is time, there is time." Eoin lied.

*****

Eamonn slept fitfully, dreams unlike any before his constant companion. He saw a man, him, yet not...his face was painted, what little clothing he wore unfamiliar to Eamonn...the man was running, chasing something...a wolf? He carried a strange bow and arrow and finally fired...the bow struck and the wolf fell. But the wolf was Eoin, and not. He saw a man...Laetes...arms open to accept Eoin? Eamonn? And at some point Laetes became a woman...in black with a ring of fire around her head.

Eamonn awoke to the sounds of the guardians breaking camp. He stood, trying to shake off the disturbing dreams. He went into the brush to relieve himself then broke up his own camp. He walked his horse to Eoin's camp and tied it to a tree and went in search of Eoin.

Eamonn spotted him across the camp, talking with Naoise. Eoin looked up, caught his eye and began to walk to him, hope in his face. Someone yelled, Eamonn and Eoin turned as one and both saw Laetes at the same moment.

He stood at the edge of the clearing, a crossbow aimed at Eamonn. Their eyes locked once again and this time Eamonn saw his death, stretched out before him, for all time, life after life after life. He made no move to save himself.

But Eoin did. He launched himself through the space separating him from Eamonn just as Laetes fired.

Eyes watched in frozen horror and disbelief as the deadly arrow flew and Eoin placed himself between death and Eamonn.

Time froze as Eamonn and Eoin stared at each other. Then slowly, Eoin fell forward, into Eamonn's arms; the arrow imbedded deep in his back.

Eamonn wrapped his arms around the still form and went down to the ground, holding Eoin close to his body. The camp came alive as guardians and druids rushed forward, Morrigan moving swiftly to Laetes but Naoise beating her. When he saw his adopted son fall, he had reached under his robe, pulled his knife and let it fly. It struck Laetes in the heart.

Eamonn sat, holding Eoin, calling him, begging him. They were soon surrounded and Naoise knelt opposite, reaching out to bury his hand in Eoin's curls.

Eamonn raised frightened eyes to Naoise.

"Please, help him, can't you help him?"

Naoise shook his head, his tears flowing freely.

"You denied him, you denied yourself. He knew he would pay the price. Only as one, can you defeat your fears." The words were choked out.

Slowly Eoin's eyes opened, blinked and focused on Eamonn. One bloodied hand came up and gently touched Eamonn's cheek.

"Eoin, don't leave... stay."

"They call me home, Eamonn. I am not afraid. We will meet again. You are my destiny. Please? Remember me? Through time, remember me?"

"Always."

"Swear it, Eamonn, swear it."

"I swear."

Eoin searched his beloved's eyes, looking for the truth and finding none. He closed his eyes against the tears of eternal loneliness, but a whispered phrase spoken in his ear gave him hope.

"A ghra Mochroi." Eamonn whispered. Love of my heart.

Eoin managed to whisper his own promise, "Ta gra agam duit, Achuisle Mchroi." I love you, pulse of my heart. The beautiful blue eyes closed and Eoin took his last breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHARACTER NAMES:
> 
> Blair = Eoin (Owen) which means = Gracious gift of God
> 
> Jim = Eamonn (Amon) which actually means = Blessed Protection
> 
> Simon = Naoise (Neesha) which means "One Choice"
> 
> Megan = Morrigan (Morgan)
> 
> Alex = Laetes (Latees) a roman name
> 
>  
> 
> PLACES AND PHRASES:
> 
> Tara = Residence of the Overkings of Ireland
> 
> Erin = Chief seat of the Druids
> 
> Calbair Con Ri = site of soltice celebration
> 
> Faith (pronounced "faw") a druid prophet
> 
> Feth Fiada = a spell for creating mists
> 
> Cenad = chant used to fortell the future (bit of coincidence? Cenad? Senad?)
> 
> Ta gra agam duit = I love you
> 
> Aghra mochroi = Love of my heart
> 
> A chuisle mochroi (cushla macree) = one of the most beautiful endearments and to be said only of a great love, it means, "Pulse of My Heart"


	2. Jim and Blair

 

"NOOOOOO!" The scream wrenched from Eamonn's heart, as Eoin died in his arms, traveled through time and space and through the centuries.

"NOOOOOO!" James Ellison sat straight up in bed, screaming. His arms were wrapped around his pillow, which was clasped to his chest. But Ellison did not see a pillow, he saw a man in his arms, a man with bloodied brown curls and a name escaped his lips... Eoin.

Blair.

Eoin. Blair.

Sweat covered Jim's body, his bed soaked. The dream so real that he could still smell the blood. Feel the warm body grow cold in his arms.

Need to find Blair's heartbeat. Nothing. Where?  He jumped from his bed, took the stairs two at a time and skidded to a stop in front of the french doors. His hand was reaching for the knob when Blair spoke from behind.

"Jim? What's wrong, man?"

Blair stood there, towel around his waist, another towel around his neck, the end being lightly rubbed against long, wet hair.

Jim dropped his hand. "I couldn't hear yo--anything, Chief."

Concern immediately replaced puzzlement.  "Your senses? Let me get dressed and we'll talk about it, okay?"

"No, just...for a minute...couldn't hear."

"And now?"

"No problem, back to normal."

"Alright Jim."   Blair walked past him and into his room and closed the door.

There. Again. It had happened again. Sandburg, letting go. Not pushing him. A frequent habit since returning from Sierra Verde almost a month ago now.

Frowning, Jim walked into the bathroom, a completely clean bathroom. No soggy towels, no puddles, no hair in any drain; the complete antithesis of the room after hurricane Blair. But the norm of late. Like the loft. Clean, every minute of every day. Since they'd returned from Sierra Verde.

Blair had returned to the loft. Jim had made sure that all his stuff had been put back into place before leaving Sierra Verde; a simple phone call to Joel took care of that. But you would never know it by how the place looked.

If Blair was eating in the loft? There was no sign. Working? Grading papers? Watching television? Reading a book, the papers?

No sign. He didn't even keep his jackets on the hooks by the door. There hadn't been a single shared meal here at the loft since their return; shared meals at work, yes, but not here. No take-out, no cooking, nothing. And it was tearing Jim apart. His friend was gone. And he was responsible and didn't have a clue how to go back, how to get him back.

He wanted the old, "messy, talk-a-mile-a-minute, push Ellison until he cracks" Sandburg. Not this Sandburg. Jim gazed around the spotless bathroom. No, not this Sandburg, he didn't know this Blair. Oh, this Blair argued, fought with everyone about anything. This Blair was passionate, vocal, even fiesty and pushy as all get out. Just not around Jim Ellison.

With Jim Ellison, Sandburg was quiet, tidy and did his level best to fade into the background. Around Jim Ellison, he rarely spoke and deferred to Jim in everything.

Jim looked at his reflection in the mirror. Older, with new lines and new fears. When had his life started spinning out of control? He was free-falling and had no parachute. His parachute was broken. And he didn't know how to fix him.

As he showered and shaved, the dream came back. The boy, he could feel the boy's body next to his own, even now. He could see the beautiful eyes, the love in them, love for him. And he could see the life, the light, leave them. A dream that wasn't a dream. Should he tell Blair? It wasn't like it was before, was it? And how could a dream seem more real than holding Blair's body at the fountain? It was a god - damn - dream.

Jim Ellison gave one last look at his reflection, and wished fervently that he could cry. Not even at the fountain, had he been able to cry. To feel the cleansing liquid, to let go. But he couldn't. And the voice, haunting, asking him to remember... and the fear.

**Later in the day**

Blair wandered down Ralston Street, enjoying the unusual warmth of the winter day and these few precious moments of peace and freedom. Freedom from pretending.

Since their return from Sierra Verde he'd been confused, disoriented and, for the first time in his life, unsure of his place in the world. He knew he should move out--should never have moved back _in_. But, he was selfish. The idea of leaving Jim... no, he'd rather stay, knowing it was wrong, than be without him. It was pathetic, totally pathetic. And he was paying the price.

God, he was so afraid. Afraid to say the wrong thing, to call attention to himself, for fear that Jim would react, ask him to leave.

And it was torture, he was feeling so much now--dying did that to you--and he wanted to celebrate, to share so much with Jim; from the moment they'd talked in the hospital and shared the vision. But then Jim left for Sierra Verde, without telling him.

The rollercoaster that had become his life, the ride that he had come to love, had taken a seriously wrong turn and was now out of control. Crash and burn time, folks. Because he'd followed Jim to Sierra Verde. And found out just how little Jim needed him and how little he meant to Jim.

He wasn't angry with Jim, not his fault, not at all. Jim had faced his most difficult test and had passed with flying colors. And selfish Blair had been forced to see that Jim could do it, _had_ done it, without him, without his guide. Guide my foot. The one time Jim had asked for his help he'd been unable to give it, even if he'd had the knowledge he wouldn't have been able to call it forth because of the shock of seeing Jim on the beach with Alex, in her arms.

God, the pain. Again, he didn't blame Jim. Alex was part of the test, Blair was certain of that. But still... she was a woman. And a sentinel. Both of which Blair could never be. That was it in a nutshell. On his knees in that temple, watching Jim try to save one of his own; kissing her. The knife in Blair's gut went deep. He was jealous. He'd felt it, there in the Temple. Blair Jacob Sandburg was jealous of Alex Barnes.

So here he was, clinging, holding on to something he could never have trying to stay in Jim's life; actually wishing he could fix Alex, give her to him. God, he was pathetic.

Need to focus on something else. Ralston Street. A unique street, lots of strange shops, his favorite street in Cascade, the home of his favorite bookstore, Cathay's. Unique books, like the one he'd just picked up; a book on Celtic legends and druids.

Window shop, that would do the trick; forget himself for awhile. Only on Ralston would you actually find a shop called "The Spell Shoppe", you know? For casting spells. Yep, casting spells--why not? Maybe a love potion? Blair actually laughed at himself for that one. But he went inside.

Now this would have pleased Naomi no end. Shelves of exotic powders, spices, herbs. He began to search for eye of newt, the place _had_ to have eye of newt; no decent spell without it.

Blair continued to wander the aisles, enjoying himself. On his left, next to the window was a beautiful antique curio cabinet; on the middle shelf rested a beautiful bracelet. Two silver bands with a wolf in the center.

"That's a lovely piece you're looking at; very old."

Blair turned to the voice and faced a woman, of maybe sixty, with lovely green eyes and red hair, now peppered with gray. She was holding out her hand.

"I'm Maggie O'Brian and I own this establishment."

"Blair Sandburg."

They shook hands and she took out a key, opened the cabinet and removed the bracelet.

"There is a wonderful legend attached to this particular piece, that's why it's here. Magic, you know."

She handed the bracelet to Blair. He took it and was immediately disappointed. Too big.

"It's a circlet. In ancient Ireland the men wore them here." She touched his upper arm.

Relief flooded over him but was immediately dampened by the thought of the cost.

"I'd be willing to give you an excellent deal, if you will take them both?"

Both? And that was the second time she'd answered his unspoken concerns.

Blair waited and she smiled.

"I see we understand each other, kindred spirits. Follow me."

They went into the back room where she pulled out a drawer, took out a velvet cloth, unwrapped it and revealed what had to be the companion piece to the one Blair still held in his hand. Only this circlet was different, instead of a wolf, the design in the center was a jaguar. Blair was stunned. Without realizing it, he had put out his hand. Maggie dropped the circlet into his open palm, next to the other.

Blair was not prepared for the shock that coursed through him as the two circlets touched.

"They are believed to have been created and worn by a Faith."

"A druid? But this design is a jaguar, an animal never seen by a druid."

"Except in a vision, perhaps? This particular Faith was said to be the one who, when conjoined with another, would bring Ireland together and drive off all invaders."

"I've done some study of druids and the legends surrounding them, but I've never come across this particular story."

"Does the name, Naoise, mean anything to you?"

"Of course, the first druid to embrace Christianity. He left Erin and went about the world... supposedly gave up his magic."

There was more Blair knew, such as his name mentioned by Sir Richard Burton, as having traveled the world with a sentinel.

"It is believed that Naoise was taking the young Faith to Calbair Con Ri for his initiation, but tragedy struck and the young man was killed by a Roman named Laetes, who believed that by possessing the young man, he could have unlimited magic and power; would actually see the great eye."

Blair's head jerked up at the mention of a "great eye".Maggie was looking at him with wonder in her eyes.

"Great eye?"

"Today we would say the Eye of God. That looking into the eye would forever change you, give you great abilities; enhance existing abilities, such as the dark magic practiced by Laetes."

"Why did he kill the boy?"

"That was an accident; supposedly Laetes was trying to kill someone who was interfering in his plans and the Faith sacrificed himself."

Blair looked down at the circlets. He had to have them. "How much?"

Maggie had been watching his face as she spoke of the legend and she now made her decision.

"Before I answer, there is something else you must see It is upstairs in my apartment Would you?"

She indicated a set of stairs behind them, a question in her eyes. Blair nodded and they went up.

Her apartment was lovely but Blair couldn't have later described it to anyone; his attention had been commanded by the sketch that hung on the wall directly opposite the front door.

"It's been in my family for generations. Naoise is said to be the artist. And this is why I'm giving the circlets to you. They are yours."

Blair stood before the sketch, looking into the eyes of himself - at 17. Only... not.

The air around him seemed to shimmer and fall away; sounds changed, smells changed, he could no longer smell the roses in her apartment. Now he smelled horses, men, sweat... and blood. He was occupying space in two worlds; words, images clashing with each other. A name, a face; a face as well known to him as his own, and not. Jim. Eamonn. A hand reaching for him; words, "I swear."

Another voice broke through, calling him back.

"That is Eoin. Naoise's ward and a Faith. You can see the circlets were his and yours."

The struggle back was difficult. He wanted to find that face, the voice achingly familiar. He refocused on the sketch, on his own eyes staring back at him, his mouth curved into a half smile, hair shorter, so young, but eyes showing as much age as Blair's showed now - more.

A hand on his shoulder tore his eyes from the picture.  "Blair? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I don't know what to say."

"When you walked into my shop, well, I can't explain what I felt. Then when you stopped and looked at the circlet, I had to show you this sketch and give you the circlets.  They belong to you."

"No. Only one belongs to me, the other one belongs to someone else."

Maggie seemed to understand for she gave a knowing nod.

"You will keep them?"

"Maggie, they are very valuable, I can't possibly afford them."

"Blair, they are not for sale. I am simply returning them to their rightful owner."

It was right. Blair could feel the rightness of it, of them.  "Thank you, I will cherish them."

"And you will see that the other one gets to its rightful owner, for whom Eoin intended it?"

"Yes, I can do that, I hope." He whispered.

At that moment, Maggie knew that finally the legend would know completion, that her ancestor would know peace.  She reached out to take them, to wrap them but Blair stopped her.

"I'd....like to wear them?"

Maggie smiled and showed him to her guest bath.

Closing the door, Blair slowly unbuttoned his shirt and set it on the sink. Then he took one circlet, undid the clasp and slipped it on his right bicep. Perfect fit. Then he took the jaguar and slipped it on his left bicep, grateful that the clasp could be adjusted, as this one was clearly the larger of the two.

Right. They felt _right_. At home. He stared at the mirror and saw... someone else, standing behind him--Jim? No.

Eamonn. Eamonn.

Jim/Eamonn? Eoin/Blair? And fire. A blazing fire, consuming them both. Blair shook his head hard and returned to the present.

Maggie showed him back downstairs and they hugged as Blair left, he promising to return. But as he took her leave she spoke.

"Blair, don't let him deny you again. There will be no other life. Fight for him. Fight for this life."

Blair could only stare. Then she kissed him on the cheek and pushed him out the door.

Stunned by the afternoon's events, he began the walk home, oblivious to the sights and sounds around him, ignorant of the two men who were, even now, following him.

As Blair crossed Seventh Street and the shadows darkened, the two men made their move. Their pace quickened and one of them pulled out a syringe. As they came abreast of Blair they each took an arm.

"Why look here, if it isn't Blair."

And before Blair could react, the taller of the two jabbed the needle into his neck.

A black limo pulled up alongside and Blair's body was lifted into the backseat, the men climbing in behind and closing the door.

The car sped off.

**Major Crimes**

"Jim? Need you for a minute." Simon stepped aside, holding the door until Jim entered, then he closed it and faced his friend.

"Where's Sandburg?"

"I don't know, Simon. He said something about errands to run. Why? What's wrong?"

"I just received a phone call from Dr. Rutcliff at Camarillo. Alex escaped two days ago."

Jim was stunned. Alex Barnes had been placed in maximum security at Camarillo State Hospital after their return from Sierra Verde. She'd been a vegetable.

"Simon, that's simply not possible, you saw her."

"Oh, I saw her alright and I would certainly have agreed with you if not for the report. According to Dr. Rutcliff, she killed one orderly, seriously injured the psychiatrist treating her and injured two nurses. She's out there and feeling just fine."

"Simon, she isn't here, I'd know if she were. That much I can tell you."

"Do you think she'd go back to Sierra Verde? To the Temple?"

Jim swiped a shaking hand over his eyes.  "God, I don't know. She isn't a sentinel anymore."

"By all that Dr. Rutcliff shared, she was complaining of headaches and screaming that her skin was on fire. To use a Blair phrase, sounds like she's back online to me."

Blair. Would she try anything? Try to hurt him again? No. He'd never been her target. She'd come after him, if she came at all.

Jim's cellphone brought him out of his reverie. He pulled it out of his pocket, fully expecting the caller to be Blair.

"Ellison."

_< Jim, I'll be waiting at the Temple. It's not good when two people have unfinished business. And if you have thoughts of not coming? I'm not alone. After all, I have unfinished business with Blair too. Hurry, love, hurry.>_

She broke the connection.

"Fuck."

"Jim? What is it?"

"Alex has Blair. She wants me to meet her at the Temple. You nailed it, Simon."

"I'll make our flight arrangements."

"Our?"

"Our. You got a problem with that?"

"No sir, no problem."

"You feeling... okay?"

Jim knew exactly what Simon was asking but not how to answer.

"Jim, dammit, she has Blair and I for one will not watch him die again. I need to know if there is a problem."

"Simon, no one is going to hurt Blair. No one."


	3. Laetes and Alex

"Wake up, Blair."

No thank you. He recognized the voice and it belonged to a face he really didn't want to see.

A sharp, stinging slap.  "Blair, I know you're awake. Do you understand?"

Damn. He did.  Alex was a Sentinel? Again?  Blair shifted in a seat, realizing his hands were tied behind his back. He opened his eyes to face icy blue orbs and his world fell away.

A name... Laetes. A small wooded glen, a tall man in black, using soft words, seductive words, promises of great wealth and power.  Laetes found him alone, performing a cenad. He had pulled the hood off, allowing the blonde hair its freedom.

Eoin was on his knees, his hands stilled by the presence of the Roman. Laetes came up behind him, strong, pale fingers wrapping themselves in his curls, pulling his head back, Laetes dropping to his own knees, words brushing over Eoin, words of love, lips tracking a path from Eoin's temple, down to his jaw, dropping below to the soft curve of his neck.

Eoin felt nothing. He kept his body still, giving Laetes nothing--except a vision of a temple, a battle, fire consuming him, the power empty and ugly, death and death again; no solace, no comfort, redemption ignored.

Laetes jerked back, hands falling to his side. "NO!", he yelled, "This will not come to pass. I will take you, your power, your very life. Do you hear me? You will be lost if you choose other than my way."

Eoin's voice, quiet, sure.  "My path will not change, I have made my choice. And the loss will ultimately be yours. But there is always another path. Turn back, Laetes, turn back."

The Roman scrambled to his feet, screaming his denial again. He gazed down at the innocent youth below him. He could take him now; end this charade. He _would_ take him now. He bent to pull the boy up, but an arrow thudded into the dirt between them.

"DO NOT TOUCH HIM. BACK AWAY!"

Naoise stood opposite the two men, bow ready to unleash another arrow. Laetes was no fool, he may have lost this time. He gave a shrill whistle and his horse trotted into the clearing. He grabbed its mane and swung up. He looked one last time at his destiny, the boy.

"I will win, Eoin, I will win." With those words, he galloped off.

"NO!" A shrill scream.

Alex grabbed Blair's shirt and pulled him toward her.  "What was that? What did you do?"

Blair blinked, tried to shake her off--what had just happened? Damn. One minute he was staring into her eyes and the next.... Blair decided ignorance was the best card to play.  "I don't know what you're talking about."

Alex studied him, holding him close and something rippled between them, one hand reached for his hair, froze, then she pushed him back against the seat.  "It will be over soon, Blair, very soon. But you won't be alive to see the ending."

"I hesitate to point this out, but you have a problem killing me and keeping me dead. That's got to be frustrating for you."

"But Blair, third time is the charm, isn't that what they say?"

Both of them stilled as her words hung between them; she unaware of their import and confused of their origin, he, chilled by their meaning and a flash vision of an arrow finding its home in his back.

Alex stood suddenly, jerking her eyes about, back and forth, finally pulling herself together, looking down at Blair.  "The spoils this time... you can't stop it, Blair."

And her voice--really two voices and her body seemed to shift and change; a man, a beast, then Alex. A moment later the world shifted and was normal once again.  "We'll be landing soon, get some rest, you look terrible, Blair." She stepped into the aisle of what Blair now realized was a small charter plane.

A plane. And he was pretty certain he knew its destination. Sierra Verde and the Temple of the Sentinels. Which also meant Jim.  "You're using me to bring Jim back to the Temple."

"Yes, clever, don't you think?"

"Why? You had no problem getting him here last time?"

"Come, come, I'm a much wanted woman now, I couldn't get anywhere near Cascade. And just calling him? No, this is much better."

"But you're not having visions this time, are you? Don't you wonder why? There's no pull this time, nothing demanding your presence.  Just your own need."

Her pale blue eyes narrowed dangerously, which only served to egg him on.

"Do you know why you were being pulled before? Why the visions? Oh, I know what you think was happening, but do you really know?"

"Jim and I are meant to bond, to forge our abilities, once we've done that I - _we_ will be unstoppable."

"No Alex, you were a tool, nothing more."

Her hand lashed out, striking hard. Blair's head whipped back. She leaned in close. "Jealous, Blair?"  Her laughter continued as she made her way to the cockpit.

Blair felt the blood trickling down his face. He'd used brave words, but Alex had seen the truth. Blair was jealous. And tired. So very tired. It was as if he'd been fighting this battle throughout the centuries and now, when the battle seemed near its end, he was exhausted.

Jim and Alex. And Blair the pawn? He saw only pain and loss for Jim. He felt his own pain for Jim; the only other sentinel they were liable to ever meet, and Blair saw no happy ever after ending for any of them.

*****

"Jim, settle down. Twitching isn't going to move the plane any faster."

Simon had been watching his friend through the long flight, watching his legs thumping, hands constantly moving, feet tapping, body shifting continually. It worried Simon. Was Jim feeling Alex? Connecting yet again?

"Sorry, Simon, can't seem to relax."

"You need to rest. For Blair. We don't know what we'll be facing."

"I know you're right, but--"

"Try, Jim, try."

Simon was right; he needed sleep. But every time he closed his eyes, he couldn't handle feeling that body dying yet again. But sleep he finally did... and dream.

Thundering horses...battle raging, arms holding him fast as he urged the horse ever faster...his head turning, looking back, seeing the man in black, watching that face - changing, morphing, a woman's countenance, emerging from water, but another face, a beloved face, also in water, but facing down...not breathing - and fire, hot, burning, then cool and soothing...the voice, begging him to remember... Incacha smiling, nodding - a gunshot, the reverberation deafening him, his own voice and another, screaming...

"Jim!" Simon's voice woke him.

"Wha? What?"

"You were having a nightmare, are you okay?"

He sat up, realized he was covered in sweat again.

"God. The dreams, Simon, I can't get rid of the dreams."

"Of Alex?"

Jim clicked open his seatbelt, unfolded himself from the cramped airline seat and stood in the aisle.

"I've got to... need."

"Go, Jim, it's alright."

Jim escaped into the narrow bathroom, turned on the light and the faucet, let the cool water run over his hands, then brought some up to his face. What was happening to him? And did it matter? What was he without Blair? 

Once again he looked at himself in a mirror. James Joseph Ellison, what would Blair Jacob Sandburg say about these dreams?  About Alex and the Temple? And Blair's voice came to him, clearly and with truth.

"We are so much more than we know, Jim. Naomi would say we are pieces of so many lives."

Yes. And this time? This life? Who would win?

*****

Thank God there was no rain this time. Just heat. Suffocating heat.

They had landed in a small clearing almost one hour ago and had been traveling on foot ever since. Blair's hands were still bound, so walking involved a great deal of plant face slapping and falling. Each time he fell, he struggled up alone, waving off any assistance. Alex had six men, six heavily armed men, and the more Blair fell, the less attention they paid him.  So he bided his time.

And soon an opportunity presented itself. There was now one only man behind him and the rest several yards ahead, machetes flying. Blair let himself fall again, the man behind him passing him without so much as a glance. And Blair melted into the jungle.

It was several minutes before Alex and the others realized he was gone. They naturally searched for him, Alex screaming orders, her rage sending her senses spiking, her head splitting. They lost precious time going back, combing every inch of the jungle. But Blair had not gone back; he'd gone forward, still bound, but following his own plan; to reach the Temple before Alex or Jim.  He couldn't have explained why, except the truth was there. The truth about Alex, about the Temple.

At one point, he took a nasty fall and lay there gasping in pain, trying to catch his breath. He turned his head and spotted several rocks, sharp edged rocks, that he'd just missed striking. He scooted over to them, turned so that he could rub the ropes against the edges and five minutes later he was free. He struggled up and started walking again, pieces of rope still dangling from his wrists.

Stumbling now with exhaustion, he heard a noise off to his right.  An animal? Alex?  Two blue eyes peered out at him from the brush and cautiously an animal approached.  A wolf. In the jungles of South America? Not a wolf. _His_ wolf. The beautiful animal stood there, mouth open, panting, waiting.

Blair hauled himself erect as the wolf turned and headed off into the jungle, glancing back to make sure Blair was following.  Man and wolf moved through the dense foliage toward the Temple of the Sentinels.

*****

In Sierra Verde, Jim and Simon had connected with Captain Ortega, explaining about Alex's escape and that she had a hostage.  Ortega knew he owed these men; owed them his freedom and the freedom of his town. He gave them what was asked. Four men, himself and two jeeps.

Following Jim's directions, they made good time through the jungle and, three hours later, Jim called a halt.

He, Simon and Ortega spoke briefly, Ortega nodded, went back to his men and they spread out, began to move forward, leaving the jeeps behind.

Jim knew that Alex would not be alone, but he also knew that she wouldn't take anyone into the Temple with her, except Blair. So Ortega, his men and Simon were dispatched to take her men out as Jim moved toward his meeting with Alex.

*****

The Temple. Blair stood swaying, as the wolf padded up the stone steps to the entrance.  Blair got the message and trudged up after the animal. At the entrance Blair was stumped. He didn't know how to get in. He wasn't a Sentinel; maybe entrance couldn't be granted.

He stared at the rock that kept him out. No, he wasn't a sentinel, he was a guide. Slowly he placed his hand over the eye, and immediately saw himself and Jim, the chamber pools - and the door swung in.

Blair had over twenty minutes before Alex arrived. Twenty minutes to read an ancient language he shouldn't have been able to decipher. Twenty minutes to learn the truth.

*****

Alex looked up at the Temple. Her home. The source of her power. But she couldn't feel Jim, didn't know if he was close. No matter. She was here. And then fear hit. Deep. Undermining her confidence. She had nothing. Blair had escaped. How could she get Jim to do her bidding? She briefly consoled herself with the thought that Blair was out there, still bound and prey to any number of animals. Okay, she would have no edge, no ace, but she had her body... the attraction. It would still work. Jim cared for her, she knew that. It would be enough. Yes, she would succeed this time. She would have the power.

She walked resolutely up to the rock, placed her hand over the eye and entered.  Now she waited.

*****

Jim was close. He could feel it. But more than that, he could feel Blair. Not Alex. Blair.

As he moved silently through the jungle he kept his senses trained on Simon and the others and knew they'd already taken out two of Alex's men, he also knew Simon was now close, following his friend. Jim smiled.

There. Just ahead. The Temple. Entrance open. He scanned the area. Two heartbeats inside, but several yards apart.

Jim moved inside.


	4. Eye of God

 

 

Blair had heard Alex enter the Temple and expected that she would find him at any moment. But she didn't. She seemed totally unaware that she was not alone. Her senses?  He listened as she moved about, readying herself and the chamber pools for Jim. After several minutes, quiet settled over the Temple.

Blair and Alex waited. Their patience finally rewarded as a voice called out. "Alex!"

She stood to face the other sentinel, the one who would give all she dreamed.  "Jim." Her voice like silk.

"Where is he? Where is Blair?"

"He's safe. And will remain safe, as long as you do what I say."

Carefully, he listened. The other heartbeat to his right and somewhere between him and Alex. "What do you want, Alex?"

"You, in the chamber pool, or Blair dies."

"I would have thought your experience last time would have taught you a lesson."

"No, Jim, I didn't finish the ceremony, I won't make that mistake this time. Get into the pool, Jim. We both know that's what you want, to finish what you - what _we_ started." Alex stepped closer. "I'm so certain of this, that I'm going to tell you the truth. I don't have Blair. I have nothing to hold over you, but the truth."

"Where is he?"

She shrugged, "I don't know. By now, he could be back in Sierra Verde."

Jim scanned her pulse, her heartbeat. He couldn't tell if he was hearing the facts. "Without Blair, there is no discussion. You lose, Alex."

"No, you want this as much as I do. Please Jim, understand, this isn't a bad thing, you tasted it, and I know you wanted more, didn't you? You can have it-- _all_ of it--and me, Jim, and me."

That voice - two voices, two faces, that need -but another voice called to him, from so far away. A voice full of love.

"Remember me, Eamonn, remember me through time" and another voice, no, the _same_ voice, "the greatest experiences we can have are the ones with the mysterious. Come on in, man, the water is nice"

"No, Alex, I made my choice."

Alex reached back and pulled a gun and trained it on Jim. "I'm sorry to hear that, Jim. You see, you have only two choices here and now; the chamber pools or a bullet through your brain. Choose again."

 "ALEX!"  Blair stepped out of the shadows. "It won't work, Alex; it won't work."

Alex never let her gaze leave Jim, concentrating her senses, ensuring that he didn't try anything, but her hand wavered, the gun itching to move toward Blair. "Well, well, Blair. Seems I underestimated you."

"And overestimated yourself."

Jim's voice interrupted Alex's reply. "Blair, get out of here, now."

Blair took a few slow, cautious steps down and closer to Jim. "Alex, listen to me. I know what you're trying to do here, but what you don't understand is that Jim _did_ complete the ceremony. He can't help you now."

"You lie. And you know nothing."

"I read the carvings, Alex. I know about the pools and I know how you tried to pervert them to your own needs and desires."

Blair took two more steps closer to Jim, letting his eyes briefly connect with his sentinel. Jim gave him a sharp shake of his head. 

"Blair, leave."

"Yes, Blair, leave. See, Jim? I'll let him go, I only want you. Go ahead, Blair, walk out--leave."

"But you don't want Jim, you want his abilities. Didn't you hear me, Alex? I said I read the carvings." Blair did look at Jim then. "Two chamber pools, Jim, that's all; just two."

His gaze flicked back to Alex, "Why, Alex, why two and only two? One sentinel - one guide. To complete the bond and later to strengthen it. The guide anchors the sentinel so he or she may be more receptive to the visions; to the bonding."

"Wait, Blair, how did I complete the ceremony, I had no guide. Yet I saw the visions, I chose."

"But you did have a guide - Incacha. He guided you, didn't he? And Alex had nothing, but her intent was different, wasn't it Alex? Like all ceremonies, be it in a Temple in South America", he looked once again at Alex, "or a cenad in a glen in Ireland, they can be twisted to someone's own needs. And two sentinels, sharing the pool? One sentinel can steal from the other, right, Alex? But Jim was stronger than you were and you lost everything. And this time? If you don't turn back? You will die again."

Alex realized some truth in what Blair was saying, and if Jim had indeed completed the ceremony... on the other hand....

"No, Blair, I won't die. I have a guide this time."

Blair shook his head, sadness filling him.

"You still don't get it. Seeing the Eye of God is the "final walk" between Sentinel and Guide. The - Final - Walk. You can't corrupt that power, Alex, it's over, give it up."

"No, you don't understand, Blair. I can steal that walk from you and Jim and the power will be mine. Why do you think I left you in the fountain? Why I needed to kill you? I was going to drive you out of town, put a bullet in your head and leave you; let Jim think you had left Cascade.  But as we walked past the fountain--"

"You had a vision? Saw Jim and me in the chamber pools?"

"Yes, completing the bond. I couldn't let that happen," she gave a twisted smile, "it seemed fitting, don't you see? The fountain? The pool? I was taking your place in the Temple, so the least I could do", her voice dipped low and sweet, deadly sweet, "was give you your own pool. So I held you down. You were groggy, but struggling so hard anyway; it took all my strength, holding you down, watching you die. Poetic justice, see?"

Jim's anger flowed out from his body in waves as he saw his partner, his guide, flinch from the memory her words were bringing up. How he must have felt, the water, his last breath. God.

Alex raised her gun hand higher. "Bye, Jim", and Alex's voice wavered, became another, deeper voice, "It seems I get the boy after all."

Alex fired. The sound bounced from wall to wall, deafening Jim. And Blair threw himself into the space between Alex and Jim. Time seemed to freeze as Jim looked into the pain-filled eyes of his guide and Blair's body fell forward into his arms and they went down.

"NO!" Alex screamed, "NOT AGAIN!"  She pointed the gun at Jim's bowed head and another shot rang out. Alex fell, dead before her body hit the ground.

Simon stood, just inside the entrance, gun hand lowering. He looked over at Jim and moved quickly to his side, kneeling down, hand reaching out to bury itself in brown curls, tears streaming down his face.

Jim held the too still body, rocking gently. He lifted his eyes past Simon, to the pools. His senses were dim, he was still deafened by the gunshots but he heard Blair's voice clearly.

"Eye of God...the final walk between Sentinel and Guide."

So be it. His and Blair's final walk. He could not go on without Blair. They would go together, here in the Temple of The Sentinels. He didn't understand why he'd lost him this time; he loved him, with all the love he possessed.  He hadn't denied him... or had he? The scene at the hospital came rushing back; his own words taunting him.

"Chief, I don't know if I'm ready to take that trip with you."

God. He brought Blair's body even closer to his own, dropping his head down on the soft hair. He hadn't denied their love, but he hadn't declared it either, and he had denied Blair as his guide. His damn fear again; fearing the journey. Not anymore. There could be no worse journey than the one he was about to take now.

"Nononono....Blair, I love you. Please don't leave me, stay, stay...."

He lifted horrified eyes to Simon.

"Simon?"

The air crackled, past and present merged, a Temple sharing space with a meadow in Ireland. Mists shimmered and became ablaze with fire and Incacha appeared above Simon's head.

"Enqueri, your guide has not yet crossed over, he clings to this life... to you, look."

Jim followed Incacha's gaze down to Blair's body and saw fingers moving, grasping his shirt, a small moan.

"The pools can do more than just bond a sentinel and guide. He is close to crossing but he is stubborn; he holds on,waiting for you. You know what to do, Enqueri, now is the time."

The flames dimmed, the mists dissipated. Incacha was gone.

"Simon, leave us, please."

"Jim?"

"Please? Trust me. Trust us."

Simon stared at his friend, then down at Blair's prone body. Trust. Yes, this time. He could trust this time. "I'll be right outside."

"Simon, take _her_."

He nodded his understanding, stepped over to Alex, bent and hoisted her body over his shoulder and left.

Gently, Jim lifted his guide and carried him, cradled in his arms, over to the chamber pools.

He lowered Blair to the ground and looked at the two pools. Two pools. But he couldn't leave Blair alone in one of them--no, too much like the fountain, and Blair couldn't help himself. Then they would share a pool.

Jim quickly stripped off his own clothes, laying them carefully out for use later. Then he knelt beside Blair and carefully began to take off his guide's clothing. He unbuttoned his shirt, lifted Blair up to his chest as he gently maneuvered the shirt off Blair's shoulders and stopped, stunned. Two circlets. A jaguar and a wolf. His dream. Eoin. And now Blair wore the same circlets.

His movements then were automatic, feeling the completeness of the ritual, the rightness. When he had Blair completely undressed he lifted him once again into his arms, maneuvered himself to the edge of the pool and slipped in, letting his body float and holding Blair's body on top of his own.

Jim lay there, arms outstretched, Blair's arms on top of his, fingers entwined.

Peace. Warmth. Love. Blair's love. His love.

A circle formed around them, flames surrounding the circle, but the flames were not hot, rather, they were cool and soothing. Jim opened his eyes, watching the circle of blue flames, the circle seemed to dip and narrow and soon wrapped itself around Blair. It sparkled and snapped, moved in Blair, then out. It widened again and this time, when it dipped, it included Jim within its confines.

A voice."Eamonn?"

"Yes, I'm here. Can you see my hand, Eoin?"

"Yes, I see it."

"Take it."

Two hands reaching out through time and space, connecting.

Blair's hand, moving.

"Jim?

"Yes, I'm here. Rest. It's okay."

Blair's fingers tightened around his sentinel's.

The bodies in the pool became four. Two separated themselves, stood, hovering, looking down at the two remaining. They smiled, clasped hands once again and moved on, leaving Blair and Jim behind, in this time, in this place.

Jim didn't know how long they remained in the pool, but as warmth receded and a chill replaced the comfort, he stirred. "Blair?"

"Ummm?"

"Cold?"

"Yes, a little."

"Let's get you out of here."

Jim sat up, Blair still resting against his chest. He got himself out, pulling Blair up behind him. He checked his partner and was not surprised to see no sign of the bullet wound. He turned Blair toward him. "I suppose you have an explanation for this?"

Tired but satisfied eyes looked back at him. "Do you need an explanation?"

Jim stared at the face that meant so much to him. Saw the circles of fatigue around the eyes;  the blue just starting around his mouth. But Jim also saw the complete love shining out from those sapphire eyes.  "No. It happened, that's enough. You're cold."

"I'm always cold. Care to warm me up?"

"I swear, you are one raging hormone."

"Hey, the bond is not complete, yet and I'm _not_ one raging hormone. I can't help what seeing you sitting there, naked, does to me."

"Blair, the bond is complete. And talk about what someone sitting naked does to someone."

Warm, husky laughter greeted that statement.

"Jim, I'm the guide here, and if I say the bond isn't complete, well, who are you to argue?"

"Good point."

Jim leaned close, his arm going around Blair's waist, pulling him in. Their lips touched and any thoughts Jim had of slow and gentle went right out the door with the explosion of taste, touch, scent and sight of his guide.

There was a bond needing completion. Sentinel and guide, sharing more than words, more than thoughts; sharing their bodies as well. They explored with hands and mouths and tongues, slipping down on the clothes Jim had so carefully laid out before taking Blair into the pool.

"Jim, want you inside...need you inside...have to have you, feel the closeness, feel you..."

"Yes, need it...as close, as deep as I can get...melded, one...individual."

Jim pulled them both over onto their sides, Jim behind Blair...then gently rolled them so that Blair was on his stomach. Jim wrapped his arms around his love, his knee spreading strong thighs, lifting his hips, preparing him. Blair's moans urged him on, finally ready to enter; one strong, smooth thrust, some resistance, but Blair, pushing back, so naturally, and Jim felt the incredible heat as his cock slid through the inner ring. They began a rhythm then.

Jim pulled Blair up, bringing his back against Jim's chest, Blair's head falling, first back, onto Jim's shoulder, then forward as the thrusting went deeper, longer...Blair's arms reaching back to Jim's waist, pulling, pushing...Jim's thrusts now in time...they were so close now and it was so right...in this place, Jim felt his orgasm building, knew Blair was with him...and then he was coming,his seed shooting into Blair, his scream torn from his throat, screaming Blair's name and Blair, joining him, Jim's name ripped from deep within his soul...and the bond was complete - Sentinel and Guide - Guide and Sentinel, but more importantly: Jim and Blair - Blair and Jim.

Sated, the two men lay in each others arms. Blair's head rested on Jim's shoulder and Jim's hand was stroking one arm. When he reached one of the silver bands, his hand stopped and one finger traced the design. The wolf.  "Blair, where did you get these?"

"A shop on Ralston Street. A couple of days ago, the same day Alex's men took me." 

Blair untangled himself from Jim's embrace, to a groan from the bigger man. "Hang on, let me do this." Blair unclasped the circlet around his left bicep and held it out to Jim. "This one belongs to you."

Jim looked at it. Eoin had known when he'd made them who they were for, and now, Blair was handing the jaguar to him. "Would you place it on my arm, Blair?"

The smile spreading across his lover's face was his answer. Blair leaned over and closed the circlet around Jim's arm.

"I think now the bond is complete."

"Yes, Jim, it is. I'm yours, forever and you are mine."

  
Simon sat on the rock, waiting. He had no clue about what had gone on in the Temple, but he knew it was right. Ortega and his men had subdued Alex's people and were now sitting in the jeeps, waiting. Alex was covered and in the second jeep.

"Simon."

His head jerked up, eyes widening in amazement.

Jim and Blair stood above him. Blair was standing and apparently uninjured. He stood and rushed forward.

"Blair? Jim? How?"

"Don't ask, Simon. Don't ask. Blair is fine. That's all that matters."

He looked at the smiling young man before him and decided Jim was right. It didn't matter how. Not anymore, not with these two.

"Do you guys mind? I'd really like to get home."

Blair looked at Simon, then at Jim.

"Home is good."


	5. Epilogue

 

Two weeks later.

"Package for you, Chief."

Blair came down the loft steps, tucking his shirt into his jeans, a quizzical expression on his face.

"I haven't ordered anything."

"Maybe from Naomi?"

"Maybe."

He went over to the kitchen table where Jim stood, package still in his hands. Jim set it down on the table and let Blair have at it, while he slipped around behind him, arms encircling his lover's waist.

The sound of paper ripping filled the loft and then a gasp from both men.

Staring up at them was Blair, only not. A young Blair, maybe 16 or 17, hair shorter, lips slightly parted, one upper arm visible and the circlet Blair now wore, clearly visible.

"Eoin."

"Yes. The woman who gave me the circlets, this was hers. She had this sketch in her apartment. Her ancestor. Eoin."

Upon their return from Sierra Verde, Jim had told Blair about his dreams and Blair had shared his as well. Now the two men looked at the picture and Jim felt lucky. He tightened his grasp around Blair.

"Don't worry, Jim. I am so not dying again. Ever. Absolutely. Never."

"Promise?"

"Promise. But you have to make a promise too, you have to promise not to try to play catch up. Deal?"

"Deal."

Jim turned Blair around in his arms and sealed the deal with a kiss. And Eoin watched.

 

finis


End file.
